Lillium
by pikatru
Summary: Many people are afraid of death but no one ever asks how does death feel? Elliot is a grim reaper who wishes to become human. Today, he's supposed to collect a man's soul who will commit suicide. In the process of collecting his soul, something strange happens and he ends up getting what he wished for after all ...
1. Chapter 1

_**Chapter 1**_

Aeschylus once said "There's nothing certain in a person's life except this: That they must lose it." You see, I've had many names, angel of death, god of death, but the most popular name seems to be The Grim Reaper. Instead, you may call me Elliot. My full name is Elliot Anthony Darwin. I have lived long enough to realize how much of a waste humans have made of this world and themselves. Many people are afraid of death but no one ever asks how does death feel?

Let's see … Where do I begin? Ah! I've got it! David Smith, born May 5, 1863, Age 20. David is scheduled to die by jumping off a 5 story building as a suicide attempt. Today will be his last day, or so I thought. My job as a Grim Reaper is to review lists of individuals about to die and collect requested souls. The list is given to me every year with an individual's name, birth date, and cause of death. We collect souls by using our death scythes. Each Grim Reaper's Death Scythe seems to be unique to each individual. Mines happens to be a dual scythe. A Grim Reaper uses a Death Scythe to view an individual's Cinematic Record. What's a Cinematic Record you may ask? A Cinematic Record is a document of an individual's life memories. The idea of a human is broken into two: a flesh body and a soul. When combined, the individual can exist among the living, and thus the initiation of their Cinematic Record. When the flesh body withers, and the Grim Reapers collect their souls, the record ends there, and the living become the dead. The "end mark" of the Cinematic Record arrives along with every death. Humans can only view their cinematic records during their deaths. This appears as if their "life was flashing before their eyes."

Anyways, Enough about the old boring history of Grim Reapers, let's get back to David. There he was standing on the ledge of the building, looking down at the street below him. The wind fluttered through his golden blonde hair. His cloudy gray eyes appeared red, swollen, and exhausted. Most likely from crying.

"I'm gonna do it, It'll be over soon. No one will need me." said David. He kept repeating the phrase as if he was having second thoughts about jumping but was convincing himself to achieve his goal. His left foot was dangling over the edge. Looking down, he balled up his fists, closed his eyes and jumped.

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**Authors note: **Hey there pals! This is my first fic that was based on a short story I wrote for English class last year. Basically this story revolves around Elliot but he's definitely going to bump into some characters along the way *hint hint* I know it was pretty short but next chapter should be much longer(I hope!) Let me know what you think and suggestions are very much appreciated.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: In no way, shape or form do I own Kuroshitsuji. All rights go to Yana Toboso.**

**A/N: **Just letting you guys know that the italicized parts are Elliot's thoughts.**  
**

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_Chapter 2_

You know, I never really understood why humans take their lives or waste the remainder of it doing useless things. If I were human, I'd live it to the fullest . To experience life instead of taking it, now that would be quite a change in this boring old routine.

_ No, That would be wrong. Being a part of the Dispatch Division is a very honorable occupation that any grim reaper would be lucky to ave. I should definitely be grateful but something inside me feels like … like I need more._

As I stepped towards David's body, I couldn't help but feel envy at the young man. He had what I wanted and just threw it away like it was nothing. The whole place looked like a crime scene, his legs were twisted outward and his blood oozed out from his nose. There was so much blood. I lifted up my death scythe ready to give the final blow but as I stabbed downward into his body, David grabbed my ankle. Well, more like clutched. I suddenly felt this huge burst of energy and I blacked out after that.

I awoke to the sound of soft beeping. I was in a plain, bright, white room with one chair on my right from the bed.

_Wait … Bed? Where am I?_

I had these strange things attached to my arm that appeared to have needles inside them: they were attached to a bag on a long silver pole. I ripped them off ignoring the pain, and jumped out of bed where just a few seconds ago I was laying in. Although I felt slightly dizzy and weak, I managed to make it to the porcelain sink. I splashed water on my face and saw my hands. My light caramel colored skin was now a milky white. I looked up at the mirror and was surprised to see that the reflection I was looking at wasn't exactly me but David. I pulled on my once light brown hair and my newly gray eyes which had replaced my bright yellow-green ones. My eyes had widened and the beeping noise was much faster now.

_What the hell is going on?! What happen-_

"Glad to see you're awake Mr. Smith" said a voice behind me.

I quickly turned around and I saw a woman who appeared to be in her mid twenties. Seeing the panic on my face she gave out a small laugh.

The woman Dr. Dalles, she called herself said "No need to be afraid, I'm your doctor. Please stay in bed. We have much to discuss."

I walked towards my bed and laid down. Dr Dalles was quite and interesting character. She had bright crimson red hair with v-shaped bangs, her eye color matched her hair, and she wore bright red lipstick as well. Her smile looked like it could brighten anyone's day. She had decided to bombard me with questions as well. "How do you feel?"

"Like I'm a whole different person."

_Literally_

"I see. Do you remember what happened?"

Scrunching his eyebrows together in confusion, Elliot responded "Not really"

"Apparently you attempted suicide and you were rushed her to the Royal London Hospital. You got some pretty bad injuries. We did the best we could to help but the pain seemed like it was too much for you to handle so you passed out and stayed like that for a good two weeks." She sighed before she continued, "Usually these cases have fatal results but you miraculously survived."

_ Taking in all this new information was very overwhelming. I was just doing my job. I was just collecting a troubled soul. That's was it, or … was it fate?_

"Mr. Smith? Are you alright?" A concerned look had appeared on her face

"Uh … y-yeah. Sorry." I said sheepishly averting my gaze.

Dr. Dalles gave a small smile "it seems you're recovering quite well. You should be able to go home his afternoon."

_Home. Where exactly is home?_ "Um Dr. Dalles?"

"Yes?"

"I don't exactly remember where I live ..."

She gave out a light chuckle "Don't worry, I set up a carriage to take you home." before she left me to change she said " I feel that you survived for a reason. I too know what it's like to lose everything. I just hope one day you wake up and be glad that you're alive" and with that she was gone.

The ride home was quite bumpy. The carriage pulled up in front of a brown dilapidated townhouse. The street surrounding the home wasn't that great either. I walked up n the three little steps towards the home and reached for the cobwebbed covered door. _Locked. _Reaching into my pant pockets I search but to no avail. I check my outer coat pockets. _Nothing but lint here._

As if an imaginary light bulb went off above my head,

_The doormat!_

Finally being able to unlock the door, I entered the lonely town home. It was rather quiet and mostly empty. The paint on the walls were chipping off and the once white paint had turned into a brownish yellow color. The floorboards creaked with each step I took. The home resembles something like a haunted house with cobwebs and dust bunnies everywhere. There were stairways by the front door that led to the upstairs bedroom.

His bedroom had a very different atmosphere to it. It appeared that this room was the only room in the house to be well kept. The walls were painted a light Grey with white flowy curtains covering the windows. His bed, more like a cot, was overall plain compared to the neatly cozy room. There was a dark mahogany wardrobe that contained only a handful of clothing and across from the wardrobe was a small writing desk. Nothing was on top of it surprisingly but what really caught my eye was what was in the third drawer on the left. A diary was neatly placed under a pile of crumpled papers. _Maybe he was trying to hide it. _I set the diary on tip of the desk and looked at it for a long time. Placing my elbows on the desk with my head resting above my folded hands, I looked outside the window towards the broken down street.

This was his personal thoughts and feelings. _Who was I to invade his privacy? _Then again, my job was to review cinematic records and judge them. I would know every single detail about a persons life just by viewing their cinematic record.

Giving out a rather loud and long sigh, I opened it. "Well David, lets see what you're really like ..."

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**Author's Note:** Alright! Finally chapter two. It's a lot longer than chapter one so I hope It meets your expectations. Did you see what I did there when I revealed who his doctor was, huh? Also, I'd like to use this space to ask you, the readers, if you have any suggestions as to future elements of the plot. I somewhat have the story mapped out but I'm having a hard time filling in the details.

-PikaTru


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything other than my OCs David and Elliot so please don't sue me.  
**

P.S. The improper grammar and bad spelling are there for a reason. David is only a child so it's likely he couldn't write as well as adults.

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**Chapter 3**

_May 5, 1869_

_ Dear Diary, It's my sixed birthday and mom and dad decided to get me a diary because i'm what they call "gift-ed" whatever that means. They say I have a lot to excpress. Momma says that when I grown up, I can be a writer but I'm afrayed to grown up._

_November 9, 1869_

_ Dear Diary, Momma gott mad at me today. She is mad becus my branded new clothes got dirti but it wasn't my fault. Some boys at school pushed me into the mud. They sayd I was dumb while laughing and I laughed too. My mom was yelling saying that I should have fought back but I can't do that. They're my frends right? _

_December 3, 1869_

_Dear Diary, for thankgivings, Momma made a whole turkey. I helped maked the pie. It was apple and chery. We stayed up all night playing games and talking. I hope everyone is as happy as I was that day._

_ January 1, 1870_

_Dear Diary, Happy New Years! Oh and mery chrismas. Guess whut I got for chrismas? I got a book. Its called Alice in Wonderland. Momma says the liberrian told her it's a good book. I love books alot. Time goes by reely fast. I wunder what its going to be like a hundread years from now. Maybe we can fly. That wud be cool.  
_

_June 29, 1870_

_Dear Diary, Its summer! I don't have school for a whole 3 munths. I can play all day or help momma in the bakery. I'm going to miss my frends though. They seemed to have fun pushing me around._

_April 15, 1873_

_Dear Diary, Today I went to school and had show an tell. I brought my favorite book Alice in Wonderland. My frends laughed at me again but they didn't push me. They took my book and ripped it up and ran away. I cried for a long time. The teachur came and asked why I wus crying. I told her I fell._

_April 16, 1873_

_Dear Diary, Momma gave me money to buy some flours for the wedding cake today. I wonder what it's like to get married. They have to kiss and that looks gross. I hope I don't have to do that. When I was walking the stor I walked threw the park. I saw dad but he didn't see me. He was sitting with some lady that wasn't mom. They kissed. I ran straight home and locked myself in my room. Shud I tell mom?_

_April 18, 1873_

_Dear Diary, I feel bad. I sat in the kitchen to watch mom make dinner and I told her what I saw. She was reely quiet. I think she was mad because she yelled at me to go to my room. I wasn't able to leave my room for dinner. The day after she was fine. Maybe things are going to be okay._

_April 20, 1873_

_Dear Diary, its reely late. I can hear momma and dad fighting. I don't know what theyre saying but it sounds cerious. Dad just left the room and is going to the front door. I heard a slam and now momma is crying. I wonder where he went. I shud go to sleep. Its late. Goodnight._

_May 5, 1873_

_Dear Diary, Its my birthday. I haven't seen dad in a since he left. I miss him. Mom is always crying and drinking out of a glass bottle. I think she forgot that today is my birthday. I'm not mad. It was my fault for her being sad. I'm sorry._

_July 8, 1873_

_Dear Diary, Today is moving day or so my mom says. She says the house is no good. I don't want to move. How is dad going to find me? I asked her and she laughed and ignored me. Is he ever coming back? I have to go now. I'm gunna have to put you in a box so it can be easier to move. See you later._

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**Author's Note:** Hey so I'm really really really sorry about the super late update and I'm not that happy with this chapter either but I can't keep my followers waiting forever. I decided to split the Diary part into two parts this is the first where hes younger and the second might be from when he's a teen or an adult. Lately I've been having writer's block and I wasn't able to do a chapter. This was on my computer for quite a long time but I didn't get the chance to finish it until now. I believe this chapter wasn't the best so I hope you can all give me some constructive criticisms to keep things going good. Okay this author's note is super long, I hope to write a new chapter soon. See ya!


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

_ Dear David Smith,_

_I'm sorry to inform you that your Mother, Mary Louise Kingston, has passed away last night. When she was admitted to Oxley Psychiatric Hospital, She was battling a severe case of alcoholism and depression. Due to the damage she had caused to herself by excessively drinking, she died of alcohol poisoning. In this letter, is a key to both you and your mother's previous home. All the belongings have been untouched so there should be no problem. Again, I am sorry for your loss. She was a very brave soul who kept on fighting._

_ Sincerely,_

_ The Doctors and Staff of Oxley Hospital_

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"What a load of crap." exclaimed the golden haired young man. "_**A brave soul**_, ha" crinkling the paper and hastily throwing it in the waste bin, he stood up, closing the door behind him.

_What do they know? I loved her but she wasn't exactly the best parent in the world. I practically raised myself. All the years of yelling and beatings I couldn't take it anymore so I packed up and left._

There he stood, looking at the brown townhome, key in his shaky hand. "How ironic, no matter how far I try to get away from this place, It always come back to haunt me." He was unsure how long it'd been since he last came "Home" if you'd even call it that. Days, Weeks, or even months but, who knows? He tried to go to college, study abroad and make something of himself. He wanted to major in Literature. Books were his passion and his only escape from his troubling childhood. Some would say he was selfish for leaving his "poor, defenseless, loving" mother alone, He would say that they're full of shit. On the outside they looked like a happy single-parent family but behind closed doors, that was a different story. Having to take care of his alcoholic and highly abusive mother _and_ being constantly bullied wasn't exactly how he expect his childhood to be. It was pure hell. Despite these obstacles, he maintained a slightly positive outlook on life and I do mean _slightly_. Of course he wasn't running through fields and picking flowers, singing about how wonderful life is but he was trying to be the person his father would've been proud of. Ever since he left his mother a few years back, he never made an attempt to see his only son. He was upset that he had left him without even a goodbye and left him with his mother who was slowly descending into madness. Closing his eyes and shaking his head he shook off any negative thoughts that were starting to appear. Opening the door he almost tripped on a few beer bottles left lying on the wooden floor. "_Fuck_"

_This place is such a fucking mess. Then again, no one's been here for quite some time._

He carefully tried to evade the rest of the mess piling up on the floor and headed straight to his old room. Pictures still littered around his door. One specific picture stood out to him, depicting a young boy with a bright smile and a flower with one hand and holding his mother's hand in the other. 'Mommy and Me' it said.

The door had lightly creaked and dust flew everywhere as he entered his old room.

_I should really clean this place. Otherwise all this crap is going to pile up._

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**_Author's Note:_** I really hate myself right now. This chapter was shorter than I expected but the good news is that I changed my mind and I'm going to be adding a third part to this diary thingy. I wanted to give a little insight on how David's life was instead of just writing it in diary form. I feel like it's easier to write in third person than first. Anyways, I realize how sarcastic my writing can be lol. The next chapter should definitely be longer because I'm going to have David write about his life weekly for a whole year so thats about what? 52 entries? They should be much more detailed than how they were when he was younger so I'm really looking forward to writing it. So sorry for the late update and Special Thanks to BluejellyfishOuO and Delahwly for reviewing. You guys rock and keep me inspired to continue this story and get chapters done faster!


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